


Toxic Waste

by BugTongue



Series: Cullbait [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beforan Culling System, Dubious Consent, Illustrated (cover image), M/M, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:58:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BugTongue/pseuds/BugTongue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kankri discovers a few things about Beforus. Cronus discovers nothing, and doesn't learn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boric Permafrost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VastDerp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VastDerp/gifts).



It's been nearly six sweeps since your lusus... died. He has to be dead, because it's that or he just left his four sweep old charge without notice, reason, or preparation. But who cares, not you, and no one knows. He's always out, you say, he's out hunting. They see how thin you are and make faces but you keep your face impassive, unchanged and unruffled. It's been six sweeps, that's enough time for you to have grown and become self sufficient anyway, who needs to know you're an orphan?

Your name is Kankri Vantas and this is just another visit from a well-meaning highblood who has it in their head to care for you. Except, it isn't. This is Cronus, and you know full well his wheedling is to get into your pants and not some legal document he doesn't even have the IQ for. You take a small, measured sip of your tea, only holding the handle so you don’t look huddled in the chilly hive. There's ice on the ground outside from the evening's rain and a rambunctious wind keeps rattling your windows. Inside is different though not by much, mostly only in that it smells like tea spices and has puffs of warmth from the stove.

"Cronus, I have told you on multiple occasions that I simply do not get those particular urges, and in fact you telling me about yours makes me rather uncomfortable." You lift your chin and watch him mildly. He just smiles and leans back in his chair like some sort of lord, hair mostly smoothed back except for a few curls. A lord down to the dressings, his latest getup.

"Alright, I'll give the flirting a break. But I can't really help myself y'know. It's in my nature." That causes you to sigh.

"I know, but although it may be your heritage and something you seem very keen on living up to, I would appreciate you control yourself in my hive, as you are a guest."

"Esteemed guest?" His tone is prompting but his expression looks almost eager. You take another sip of tea and glance at the melting ice on a window pane.

"Esteemed sure." You murmur, then clear your throat. "Actually, and I apologize for the rudeness, but I have things to do currently and would like the hive to myself. I'd urge you to stay warm but I feel that might be inappropriate due to your hue." You set your cup on its coaster and stand. He pulls a face as if pupa-eyes will ever hold any sway with you. When he speaks of course there's that ring of a whine to it.

"But it's all slick and nasty out there, you really going to send me out there?" His tone makes you bristle but, well, can you really send him into that? After a moment of thought, facing away from him, you flip your bangs to the side where they belong. "Alright, you can stay so long as you don't distract me from my work."

"Sure thing, you got it." He takes a sip of his tea while watching you.

It takes you most of the morning to clean up your hive and do whatever online billing you can, checking on and responding to a few argu- conversations, while you're at it. The knock on your open door startles you.

"Hey kankri, know you said you had stuff to do but... sky's letting up a bit, why don't you come on over to my place with me?" He grins at you and you take your fingers off the keypad so you don't ruin it.

"No thank you, I really would like to have the hive to myself for a while. Have a safe travel home." You turn and look him in the eye, your own heavily lidded.

He shrugs. "Suit yourself then, sounds kind of lonely though I've got to be honest with you on this one." Lonely hm, you shoo him off and once you've watched him leave down the street you let out a sigh and allow yourself to put on another layer of clothing, shivering. You can't wait for the warm season. Most trolls would be staying in their hives due to longer sun hours and you only needed to worry about staying cool.

You reach across the desk and tug the husktop closer, scrolling through trollblr with your knuckles digging into and supporting your cheek. It was only a sweep ago you were arguing with that one guy who just couldn't seem to comprehend the plight of warm-identifying coolbloods and the struggles of those who might theoretically try to inject dye into their bloodstream to look right. It would be a terrible thing to deal with of course but he didn't give a crap, going on about a creative imagination and you having some seriously misplaced priorities. A full sweep since then, it feels odd you don't even remember his handle.

A hum slips past your lips when you hear a knock at the door downstairs, and thinking that inept coolblood left something in your hive you answer it without much thought. However, greeting your ganderbulbs is a rather tall, slit-pupiled blueblood. She smiles at you kindly, in that way that makes your bones ache with ire.

"Hello there little guy, mind if I come in?" Her tone matches the sickly sucre of her perfume and makes your skin crawl.

You speak carefully, as if chipping your words from an ice statue. "I'm sorry to inform you but I do not take visitors inside my hive, and I have absolutely no intention of coming out in this weather. Have a pleasant evening outside the limits of my lawnring." You move to shut the door but there is a very glitzy high heel in the way.

"Now darling is that any way to treat your bet- nifactors?" Your face would burn in outrage if this weren't the common fare. Instead you lift your nose in the air and nearly close your eyes.

"High heels in icy weather, now that isn't very responsible is it? I think perhaps I'll take my chances on losing you as a benefactor if that's the sort of thought you put into the things you do. Good morning." You push the door shut this time and lock the deadbolt with a solid snap.

Over the next week the callers at the door and over the internet get more insistent and more annoying about how 'a little acaste troll like you can't afford not to be culled, and really I have your best interests at heart'. It's insulting, as if you can't take care of yourself! And of course Cronus has finally taken to listening to you more so hes been there for a few of the incidents. After you take care of your latest ‘benefactor’, you go right back to what you had been lecturing him about but he interrupts you.

"Hey uh, you know they're not going to leave you alone until you're out of the system." He wets his lips, shuffling the folds of his tunic... thing, the fabric black as night besides his symbol, rings clicking together. Your lip nearly snarls up in your frustration but you keep face.

"Oh? And is this another proposition I'm hearing? Because I think I have been rather clear on where I stand."

"No no, I just. I think that it could maybe benefit us both? My hive's pretty big and you’re the only person who lets me come over regularly, and hey y'know they can't re-cull you." He purses his lips, studying your window and the freezing rain coming down against it. The most you can respond with for a moment is simple starring. Cronus is the last person who would ever actually act on his cull duties, being the most selfish troll you know besides that annoying jerk your wonderful Friend Latula has chosen to slobber all over. Perhaps he's right for once, since it won't be a cull in any way but legally.

"Cronus, I will... consider it. Since it would mean uprooting and moving my belongings into your hive we will need to go over some guidelines, and of course write up who would do which chores and just what is or is not allowed to transpire-"

His expression brightens the moment the word 'consider' reaches his thinkpan and hes leaning forward by the end, interrupting you. "Aw kankri thats great I knew you'd see it my way, see this is why we're best friends."

You pause in your response. "Friends surely, but don't you think it's a bit presumptuous to call me your best friend without first asking me if the position is already taken?" He just snorts and flops back again.

"You? Nah im not too worried about being beaten to the punch."

"Excuse me?" You narrow your eyes from lidded to squinting. "I do hope that wasn't meant to imply anything, although knowing you I'm likely correct in taking offense to such a remark."

He grins at you and settles into his seat, feet apart and spine bowed to accommodate his almost comical slouch. "We going to do this or not, babe?" He laughs at your disgusted scoff while you uncross your legs and stand up.

"Yes, but I am going to fill out the paperwork, since I wouldn't want you to sink to a station so below your current lordship." His smirk falls but he doesn't seem to have caught the full undercurrent of sarcasm. Good, you grab your jacket and hat from off the coat rack, causing him to pop his brow.

"Right now? You wanna go right fuckin now while its raining?" He stands when your response is a curt nod. If you dont do this now you'll talk the both of you out of it and have to deal with everytroll and their lusus trying to cull you 'for your own good'.

"It is now or never, the forecast calls for rain nonstop over the next few nights and I don't exactly feel up to donning my suncoat." You don't wait for a response as you take your umbrella from its cylindrical holding pipe and pull the front door open. He follows you out after a hurried scuffle with his rain equipment and its out into the ice and downpour, meltwater filling into holes and saturating mud puddles.

"Kan- kankri, hey would you wait up?" He jogs as elegantly as an almost seven-foot troll in out-dated footwear can and slides to a halt once he's tripped past you along the road. You look over at him, chin up enough for you to still be looking down at him, even if its only relative to the angle.

"If you fall and make a fool of yourself while we're in the city I want you to know I intend to sign those papers with or without your presence."

You continue walking without another word, apprehension gnawing at your digestive sack the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the wonderful TooMuchShyness (on tumblr, what a nerd)


	2. Hydrochloric Sleet

The way rain falls on the roof of Cronus’s hive is jarringly different from your own, the echoes of water against wood wobbling downward and being joined by the sound of waves breaking on the shore outside your window, it’s all so noisy. If it weren’t for the fact that cronus gets a coolblood’s allowance along with the funds to care for his new cull, both leading to your being in high-grade sopor, you wouldn’t get any rest at all. You knew it would be different, you just didn’t expect to feel so completely miserable.

Of course, then there’s his lusus, to throw salt in the wound. He comes whuffling over to you when you come down to the nutrition block to prepare yourself a wakenmeal, pushing his snout up under your chin and mussing your hair while its wet from showering away the slime. If you’re in the entertainment aperture he checks on you or curls up in the seat nearest you. You would much rather he left you alone and shied from sight.

Currently, you’re brewing a spicebark drink and eating some expensive looking preserves on equally luxurious grainloaf. You suppose there are a few perks to living with a seadweller, loathe as you are to admit it. As long as those perks outweigh any mishaps and hardships you wont seek legal action to have yourself removed from Cronus’s care. Speaking of, while you’re coaxing one of his cooking gadgets into doing it’s job, Cronus waltzes in, tunic and sashes flowing behind him like decorative fins. You look up from the tiny page of instructions, which you were merely peering at out of curiosity and certainly not ineptitude. He grins at you.

"Kankri I got great news, Saraband Records offered me some serious dough and I think I have a real chance to get my name somewhere big and bright!" He grins until you congratulate him, pressing your hands together.

"Thats wonderful, does this mean you’ll be home less? Not that your presence is unwanted I assure you, I’m asking of course for night-planning’s sake. If you’re to be out for the majority of our shared waking cycle then we may have to readjust the chores system I implemented." His grin fades and continues to do so until he’s taking you in with a rather put-out lip wibble.

"See here I was all excited about my artistic fucking genius finally being recognized and you want to go on about chores. Is this why you don’t have any friends?"

You set the instructions aside and smooth your hair down. “I understand you may be overwhelmed with emotion currently but please refrain from ad hominem attacks, I’ll thank you in advance.”

"I’ll thank /you/ in advance to maybe be less of a killjoy. Am I really so awful that you have to dismiss me all the time?" He puts a hand on the counter edge and leans in, his other hand on his hip. It has the rather nasty effect of making him look even bigger, paired with him being in your personal space bubble it takes a lot of self control not to put a distance between the two of you.

"I am not dismissing you, Cronus. I’m being practical-"

"You’re being rude." He says, looking haughty and tense.

“Fine, Cronus, tell me about your night again. I will try to be less of a killjoy, excuse me.” Your tone is too clipped and you know your expression isn’t the picture of collected, but you doubt he has the capacity to notice. He seems to tense further before taking a step back.

“Nah, it doesn’t matter.” He glances at the piece of equipment you were attempting to use and points at a little switch. “That’s the on button, kanks.”

“I see.” Your ears warm and you nod.

The night continues smoother than it’s start and you relax enough to come down from your block, taking a break in your studies to interact. He looks up from where he’s sprawled out on the couch, peeling his arm from off his eyes. You stand in the middle of the floor and hold his gaze awkwardly before sitting down in the chair adjacent to him. He snorts.

"Kanks, you can just come and go when you like, it don't have to be made a show of that woah, the elusive mutant has finally digned to visit his friend." He leaves off the 'best' with only a tiny hiccup of breath, though the rest of his sentiment stings you.

"I am not a wild animal, Cronus, I am simply not used to being around other people for extended periods of time, and i would be so brash as to call this /extended/, wouldn't you? therefore it is to be expected that i not spend every waking moment in your presence."

"Some of your waking moments could be in my presence" He mumbles and sits up. He clears his throat. He shifts around a bit and glances at you like that's supposed to mean something, and when you continue to stare at him like he might have a severe hemorrhoid situation he rolls his head back against the support cushions and sighs. "Kankri, come here for the love of spacetime."

You straighten up and school your face into a block of ice, rather than allow your indignancy to show. Is he ordering you around? Does he honestly have the /gall/ to tell you what to do like you're some new pet? "Excuse m-" He cuts you off with an eye roll and a scoff.

"Please do not go into a tirade about my tone or some shit, i just wanna hang out with you, okay? This is me requesting that you come over here and sit down, instead of all the way over there. Y'know most people aren't so stingy with the physical contact, you're making this whole thing kinda weird."

The urge to apologize to him niggles at you and takes residence in your gut. But why should you feel sorry? You get up thoughtfully and sit down once more, this time on the far cushion of his couch. "Are you positive it's not the fact that you seem to be in dire need of- Cronus what the hell?! I-I mean, what on Beforus are you doing? Unhand me." He is hugging you to him with one arm in such a way that you have fallen across one of his sprawling walk prongs, his thoracic scent glands filling your nose.

"This is called 'cuddling'. Friends in the normal world are known for it, and usually no one squawks about how awful it is unless..." He trails off, leaning down to fill your vision with his smirk. "Someone starts doin’ this" You shriek as his fingers find a sensitive area under your arm, then again when he prods your side.

"Cronus! Cronus would you- haa- hhhahahahaa! Stop!" You laugh uncontrollably as he pokes and jitters and snickers at you. There are tears in your eyes and half your body hangs off the couch by the time he relents and allows you to breathe. His breath, your breath, and the sound of some clock ticking grace your ears as you just lie there in disarray to recuperate. You turn your head to look up at him, brow drawn and eyes hooded in an attempt to gather your dignity back. "That was absolutely uncalled for and next time i say stop i expect you to stop, do you understand me?"

He shrugs, leaning back and draping both arms over the back of the couch. “Aw c’mon, it wasn’t that bad. I even kept my claws out of your skin.” When you sniff derisively and sit up, he wraps an arm around your waist that pushing on doesn’t remove. You stiffen.

“Let me go.”

“Nope.”

“Yes, Cronus, let go of me now.” A sharp scent reaches your nose and you realize its coming from you. He peers at you.

“I thought you said you believed me when i said i was royalty.” You gape at him before shutting your mouth fast enough your teeth click.

“Yes, well I did say that. But don’t you think this is still a serious breach of acceptable behavior?”

“Acceptable? To who? If I’m an emperor rehatched then who do i need to answer to on acceptability?” He narrows his eyes, arm tensing. You have two options here; indulge his ridiculous fantasy and he’ll settle down, or enlighten him to how much of a fuckhead he’s being and probably get assaulted. He holds your stare for another moment before you lower your eyes and relax into him. You’ll talk about this with him later, impress upon him the personal space and boundaries of others. However, right now you will be resilient and deal with the impolite hand that the fates have dealt you. Allowing yourself to become his charge should have been a way out, not this farce of a friendship. He’s treating you like a subject, not an equal.

It’s been a long time since you’ve missed your lusus.


	3. Sulfuric Hail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's rough buddy.

The wind outside has picked up enough to push in through the cracks in the ship’s hull and chill you, even through a sweater. You’ve layered up but reluctantly, it doesn’t feel much different than living on your own now. The thought occurs to you that perhaps you could go home, but your hive has probably already been deemed uninhabited and may have a new tenant and… that is something you don’t want to deal with honestly.

Cronus has been most confusing recently, changing his mind between wanting to have physical contact and wanting you to not even be around. If it’s the latter he’ll snip at you until you can’t take it anymore and go back to your block or out for a walk around the hive. You have walked circles around this hive so many times you’re creating an actual pathway. In fact you just got back from pacing the shoreline which is partially why you’re shivering so hard currently, but you’ll be damned if you’re going to ask him to turn the heat up since knowing him he’ll take that as innuendo. You have become a lot more aware of how what you say might be heard as innuendo.

After dinner he is apparently in a mood to be around you, so in the living room you sit and watch television. As pretentious as the words sound on Cronus’s lips you do prefer the highblood dialect and it’s short, crispness.

“So Kanks, what have you been up to tonight?” He’s got that cursed hand around your shoulders and a slow, sleepy droop to his words.

“Exploring the beach. There isn’t all that much ground to cover really but I suppose it’s something. Better than no ground.” Your tone is derisive but you doubt his ability to notice, he’s never been that bright in comparison to you. That’s why you have to talk him through things and bolster his whimsical ideas, if you don’t then he’s only going to be stupid _and_ angry. “What have you been doing, planning your empire?”

He twitches at the dryness of your tone but doesn’t respond to it in particular. “Yeah, sort of. My musical empire, I’ve been cranking out some seriously great tunes recently, kinda wondering if i could get you in on the vocals.” He peers down at you without turning his head, like it would be too much effort to face you properly. Maybe you’re just irritable.

“... Thank you, but no. I would much rather not sing, especially knowing the general topic you'd have me-”

“Aw c’mon Kanks, afraid of a few words? It’s not like you’ll be doing anything, just adding that pretty voice to a track what’ll do it justice.” His mouth quirks to the side as he honey’s his tone, tugging you closer. You harden your expression and lift your chin in response.

“My answer is no-”

“Why?”

“ _Do_ stop interrupting me, I have been attempting to tell you exactly that but you seem unwilling to allow it!”

His expression darkens and he lets go of you, turning on the couch and bringing up a boot to crowd you in. “Alright, tell me then. Why is it you don’t want to do this with me. It ain’t like i don’t do shit for you, y’know, like feed, house,and entertain you. It’d be real fuckin’ swell if you’d give back a little but go ahead, why would you rather spend all your time cooped up in your block or out on the sand than helping me out?” The way he chips out the words brings your temperature up, and your stomach down below the polished floorboards.

“I- Cronus I just don’t want to sing, that’s all it is. I’m a little offended you think so low of me, one of the few people to tolerate you through your storms and-”

“Excuse m-”

“CRONUS.” You have never truly _snarled_ before, nor have you been this angry. Even Porrim allows you the common decency of letting you finish a sentence, if not the entire paragraph. “I, am speaking, and you WILL listen to me!”

Your anger drops hard into your thorax when he abruptly stands up and glares down at you, your hands splaying out on the couch like you hope to push away, to run.

“Either you’re really stupid or you’re a fuckin liar, on account of one, you’re disrespecting goddamn royalty on purpose, or two, you never believed me in the first place. Stand up and quit cowering like an asshole.” You apparently can’t move fast enough because he yanks your sweater as you’re leaning forward and pulls you up flat onto your feet.

“Cronus calm down, I see that I have hurt your feelings and I am sorry, but there is no reason to act like- eep!” He yanks you up further so you’re nearly suspended by the front of your sweater, causing you to grab onto his arm and stretch to stay standing. Your face contorts with ire and you glare at him. “Unhand me! This is outrageously uncalled for and I do not appreciate being handled in such a rough way! Don’t you fucking snarl at me I said let go!” You bare your teeth, gripping his arm hard as he growls.

“Y’know Kanks, you ain’t really in much of a position to be givin me, _me_ , fuckin orders.” His grip tightens and he shakes you for emphasis, jarring your thought process. You twist in his grasp because that is enough, you’re done playing this game you want to go home. Then he drops you and you think he’s done, that he’s going to let you go, but then the sting registers and you realize you’re looking across the room to the far left of Cronus. You bring a hand up to your face and turn to look at him, eyes wide.

“... Did you hit me?”

“ah-” His jaw is slack and you can’t recall him ever looking _stupider_ , fake royal dressings hanging off his body, hair done back with too much gel, makeup hiding the worst of the start of his adult moult. “You were, talkin’ back to me I-”

You swell up and snarl at him, hands balled into fists, eyes misting over with the sudden rush of emotion. “Did you just hit me?!” You’re shaking. You take a step back and cross your arms while breathing slowly. Calm down, violence will only escalate the situation and you would honestly like to be in one piece when you file for a termination of your contract. Closing your eyes helps stop the tears faster, and after a moment you can actually speak like a rational troll. “Cronus, if you ever hit me again I will file charges, I won’t allow you to put me through-”

“Good fucking luck with that.” He grits out, back on the offensive. You turn away in frustration and start to leave when he grabs your arm and pulls you back to him. It's too calm for his mood and sets you that much more on edge, like ice-smoke clouding your throat, like when you sat at the window and looked into the gloom, or paced the hive, because something is wrong and you don’t _know_ whats going on. 

He leans in and holds your arm tighter for all you try to lean away. "You weren't fuckin dismissed yet, forgettin' already who you're sharin' a hive with?" This close to him you can smell his sweat, you can read every line on his face, see the fluorescent lighting up his eyes that dangerous red hue. 

You are, so, angry. You're shaking with it, anger and fear and confusion because Cronus was nice once, you were sure of it. If not nice then at least not this cruel. So you'll do what always works with him, validate and sooth and explain. You can't have him stupid and angry, after all. 

"... I'm sorry. I forgot to ask, and that was rude of me even under the circumstances." Theres a tremor to your voice you can't banish, and your pupils must be pinpricks with how bright the room is. 

"Make it up to me then, if you're so sorry." You're reminded rather vividly of a documentary you watched a few perigees back where a few explorers went into an abandoned portion of the brooding caverns and one of the support columns gave out. They were crushed by heavy stones bigger than hives apiece. That sound is what lies in his tone, the deep undercurrent of implication that if you don't do this it's going to hurt. A mountain doesn't give a damn about intent.

"Up to, Cronus what do you want?" You have a short few breaths to regret the question before your arm is pressed to your side and hes using the position to walk you to the couch, sitting down and letting go of your arm so you remain on your feet. 

"You tell me babe, what do I want?" He's in that slouch, with his legs apart and his arms over the top of the couch and an expression that turns the knot in your stomach to ice.

"... You want sexual acts as penance for my transgressions. Which, which is asking too much. C-" He puffs up and you glare him down. " _Lord_ Ampora, this is more than I can give." 

"I never said you had to get into it, or that it had to be your nook even though I bet its fuckin hot and tight." he sits up as he speaks and you go rigid as not to bolt for the door. You don't move towards him for long enough he loses some of the anger and command and looks almost like a stupid kid who got caught digging beetles out of the neighbors lawnring. But it passes, of course it passes, and he snaps his fingers. "Well get on your fuckin' knees then, you want to make it up to me then this is what _I_ want." he pulls you down by the hem of your sweater so either he stretches it out or you do as he orders. Your knees hit the floor and you already know they're going to bruise and annoy you when you walk, but your thoughts are more focussed on the hand gripping your hair and the thumb pressing into where horn meets scalp. Your breath catches and you slap his hand away.

"Touch me again _your majesty_ and I will leave, consequences be damned." He hesitates a moment, then lowers his hand to the couch. You undo his pant with uncareful motions, mouth set in a firm line. The only reason you're doing this is so things don't escalate before you can get back to your block and shut him out and _fix_ this. Not because you're scared of him, not because you're scared of what he can do, certainly. His bulge curls against your hand and you shiver tensely at the sensation. It's like handling silk or velvet thats fallen in something tacky, and it smells like bitter sweat. You stroke him, leaning away with your lip curled. He licks his lips and watches you with narrowed eyes, pupils much wider than usual. 

"Y'know Kankri, you're gonna make a huge mess like that. Put it in your mouth or up your nook and that won't be a problem." You bare your teeth and grip him too hard, making him hiss. "Watch it chief-" 

You shove it in your mouth, because although its repulsive and wiggling and throbbing and smells much stronger like this, it's better than the idea of his nasty, _stain_ creating spunk getting all over you. He groans and grips his knee in an aborted attempt to grab your hair. 

"Fu-uhhhck yeah babe, like that." He grinds up into your mouth and you cough, pulling away. "W- no c'mon get back on it." his brow furrows as his eyes uncross. 

"You must refrain from choking me as well, if it isn't too much of a hassle to control yourself for once." Leaving no room for him to argue, you dip back down and grip the base firmly, rubbing the ridges underneath with your thumb as you lick his slit over and over. You don't care if it's too much for him, he shouldn't have cornered you into this. He bites his lip and you can feel his groin muscles twitching, see his knuckles whiten. You close your eyes and cut off the view, pulling him in deeper to suck. 

"Ahh, fuck move your hand, gimme some friction." You swallow the gathered spit in your mouth, squeezing him between your tongue and palate as you stroke him. The smell and taste and feel is everywhere and you feel ill, but you still begin to bob your head and push your thumb into his pants to rub as his nook. His hips buck and he curses, looking a lot less like royalty and a lot more like a desperate drunk. His fingers wind into your hair and push you down on him despite you digging your nails into his thighs and gagging. Your shoes scuff the tile as you push in futility to get some air as he pulls you up, and right back down to grind against the back of your throat. You get air throat your nose when he pulls you up far enough, though thats not often enough to keep your head from beginning to spin. 

Just when you've finally stopped gagging every time, he shoves you down so your lips meet his base and pumps his slurry into your stomach. You can't breathe. You can't breathe you push and he lets go and the rest of his color ends up on you as opposed to in you. When you stumble to your feet it makes your gut slosh and you slap a hand over your mouth to keep it in.

Your feet take you out of the hive entirely, along the shore to some rocks to heave out the contents of your stomach and maybe a few tears, though they might already have been there. The rough stone scrapes your hands and then your cheek when you rest it there, but the sound of sand sifting through the waves is much more desirable than your culler's breathing. Pulling at your sweater only proves to emphasize how much goop is gluing it to your thorax and you sniffle, the rocks getting blurry. You'll have to throw it out and get a new one, you can't wear this anymore. Not even if the stain comes out, which you do not want to deal with. You wipe off your face and go into the hive from around back and up a flight of stairs formed by broken planks in the siding, straight to your block where you dress down in convulsive shivers of disgust the whole time any of the violet material rubs against your skin.

Long after you've showered and dumped your sweater out the window and into the riptide, theres a knock at your door. You wait for the second knock with a book in your hand then let it fly at the first sound. His yelp is muffled but satisfying.

"Kankri please, I wanna talk to you."

You narrow your eyes and scoff. "The last thing I want right now is for you to breathe my air and use it to dribble some nonsense apology, and then either hit on me or threaten me or both. In short, your lordship, get bent."

Your phone buzzes and you look down to see trollian blinking frantically.

\-- clandestineClerisy [CC] has begun trolling celibateGribble [CG] \--

CC: yo where the shell you been at buoy?   
CC: normally youda been blowin up mah phone by now.  
CC: erryone else been glubbin bout how nice the peace and quiets been but i mean its gettin old.

You weigh your options. Tell Meenah the truth and deal with the inevitable jeering, or ignore her, because you don't just lie.

CG: please refrain fr9m w9rrying t99 much a69ut me, th9ugh i supp9se its rather kind 9f y9u.   
CG: i have 6een at the hive 9f Cr9nus Amp9ra and have every intenti9n of leaving s99n.  
CC: woah woah hold the glub up why the fuck you over there?   
CC: i flow you aint just visiting since you don't leave your hive for nuthin, i heard you moved your mailbox to your damn porch.  
CG: i made a very rash decisi9n and 9nly have hindsight t9 tell me that a gut feeling is m9re than imp9rtant en9ugh t9 nix an agreement 6ef9re its even been made.   
CC: bro what he do tho  
CC: like clam if you that pissed he had to have done some major fuckery and i reely think you owe it to me, the coolest person you know, to give me reason to come down offa this moon and kick bass.  
CG: i all9wed him t9 cull me. And things happened that i d9n't wish t9 g9 int9 detail with y9u, 6ut kn9w that i w9n't spare a single detail in explanati9n t9 the culling 9ffice 9n why this c9ntract needs t9 6e terminated.   
CC: oh shit shrimp are you ok?   
CG: i request that y9u st9p asking.   
CC: aight i hear ya, but was it bad enough for me to at least send someone to his hive to rough him up?   
CG: if thats h9w y9u want t9 sh9w l9yalty t9 y9ur friends, a6sh9alutely.   
CC: 38D  
CC: 38D  
CC: omg the NAUTICAL PUN  
CC: i got yo back, nubs, don't you even worry boat it.  


\-- clandestineClerisy [CC] has ceased trolling celibateGribble [CG] \--

You turn your music up and rest your head on the back of your chair, studying the ceiling with mild apprehension. What if he fights this? What if he doesn't allow you to go? You read all the horror stories about bad culls and it twists your guts up and ties them together just under your ribs. 

You drift off without the aid of slime that morning, knees pulled up under you and arms feeling strange and naked without your sweater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (beta'd by Necey)


	4. Nitric Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yooo finally finished this train wreck. If people like this fic enough I will write a sequal fic to flesh out Kankri's trip through the Beforan culling system.

For the past three nights, the rain has stopped only to begin snowing once again. Cold seeps into your bones and makes waking up each day a chore. You can turn the heat up in your 'cupe all you like but the moment you get out it's the same slow ache as you cool down and shiver alone in your block. Your fingertips are a vaguely alarming color, and stay in your armpits if you can help it.  
  
You haven't spoken a word to Cronus yet, waiting for the agency to get back to you on when they can come pick you up now that you've sent in the necessary information to nullify your contract without _his_  consent. Somehow it just doesn't seem wise to tell him where to shove it until you know for sure you have a way out, especially after the last time he cornered you, knowing that you specifically did not have a way out. You shove yourself into a shower just so that maybe you'll warm up, wondering in an off prong sort of way if he purposefully hasn't bothered turning on the heat. He, he wouldn't be doing this to get you to seek him out would he? No of course not, that would take cunning, of which Cronus has none. He only thinks he does.  
  
The hot water runs out and forces you into a few layers of clothing and down stairs into the kitchen for some hot tea and maybe something to eat. It's embarrassing to admit but you haven't been eating properly despite the abundance of food, preferring to stay cooped up in your room away from any company, and it's been putting a toll on your already thin form. It's only been three nights, you'll be fine once the agency gets back to you and sends someone to pick you up. It'll be any night now. Maybe they've replied while you weren't upstairs, perhaps you should just get the tea and go back up-  
  
"Hey Kankri, long time no see." His tone is light but you can hear the hesitation. You turn your head just enough to see him in the corner of your eye, lips pressed thin. There is no reason to talk to him. He may have no cunning, but he is very very good at slipping between the cracks of logic and civility to get what he wants.  
  
He scratches the back of his neck, spine angled in a show of ease and comfort. "So I uh, take it you're still a little sore about the other night hunh. Well I thought I'd make it up to you, since we gotta live with each other and all, and we _are_  friends." He startles when you snort so forcefully you have to bring a hand up to your nose to catch the dripping tea, setting the cup down while you cough. His hand is heavy and unsure when he pats you on the back.  
  
"Hey, hey woah don't die on me, uh, oh. You're just, laughin'." His hand retracts to his abdomen and you have to hold onto the counter before your knees give out and you land on the floor. You know it's cruel how you sound, and honestly thats good, if you're mean enough he might fuck off.  
  
"Friends, you think we're friends? Cronus, friends do not hit friends and threaten them into sex. No, we have not been friends for a long time now." You pick your tea back up with a shaking hand and take a rushed sip, the heat biting your tongue unpleasantly. He is close enough you can smell the frankly disgusting oil he wears to seem more like royalty. God he's repulsive, trying so hard to look like something he can't even dream up vividly enough to replicate. You look towards the window that's frosting over, leaving an even smaller port hole of glass to see the black waves in the distance, arching up from the rocks into the sky.  
  
"Yeah, yeah okay I may have gone a little far with that, but you totally agreed to it. If you didn't wanna suck me off y'know maybe you shoulda just, not a done it." He drums his fingers against the counter in a way that drapes his arm in your space to the left. You step to the right and wait for your pulse to slow down, settle into a normal rate.  
  
"Just do me a favor, Cronus, leave me alone. Stay away from me, don't talk to me, just give me some time to myself. If you can manage that, of course, because I know how much you need to always be in some form of spot light." Oh dear, that seems to have hit a nerve. His lip curls up and and absolutely does not give you space, instead he moves so close his knees touch you and you have to set the cup back down before it gets knocked around and all the tea gets spilled.  
  
"What was that? 'Cause see I heard somethin' about spot lights and y'know what's real funny is who it's fuckin' coming from, Mr 'I know better than the fuckin' empress and everyone needs to listen to me because I'm gonna make the world a better place by puttin' everyone to sleep', fuckin' spot lights oh you are a funny one. Yeah I don't hear you laughin' now on account of you knowin' I'm only not hittin' you again, 'cause we're friends." He leans down and oh, oh. You aren't one hundred percent sure what to do, his mouth is on yours and one of his hands has slid up your back and into your hair.  
  
The only option that comes to mind besides kissing him back to avoid a fight, is _bite_. So you bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. There's a groan before the counter digs into the small of your back and he bites you back and you shove at his chest until there's enough room for you to fall to the floor and scramble to your feet a few paces away.  
  
"Cronus Ampora how _dare_  you put your- how- why did you do that?" More than your hands are shaking now, much to your ire. He takes a step closer and you run for it, forgetting about the food, the tea, forgetting about the message that should be waiting for you upstairs. You run out into the frosted sand until a good few rocks are between you and the hive. Salt water sprays your hair and clothes, causing your skin to feel sticky and hurt with the cold. You can see your breath.  
  
He walks out after you with his hands spread away from his body, fins back and face in a wince. The moment he catches your eye the worry drops away and he snorts, following you. "Kankri, if you slip you're gonna have a rough time. That water is fuckin' cold."   
  
You snarl and pull yourself further out among the rocks. "You need to learn how to take _no_  and _go away_ as an answer-" the rock under your hand turns out to be a dead, loose barnacle and you nearly tumble into the pool of water at your feet, the edges frosted up into the rock like caught mist and the center looking more like slush than water. Cronus does stop, but with his hands out to you.   
  
"Yeah whatever just, stay where you are alright? Let me come to you."  
  
"No! I told you to me alone!" you hiss and duck closer to the rock.   
  
He reaches for you anyway and in your attempt to avoid him, you misstep and drop with a shriek that cuts off when you clip your chin and arm against a rock. You land in a much deeper pool farther out and grab onto some kind of pipe wedged into the sand just as a wave tries to shove you into the sea wall. You can’t breathe, not until the wave recedes or you let go of the pipe, which seems like a risky idea even with how you can’t feel it under your fingers for the cold. The water pulls back and yanks you off the pipe anyway, out past a few lumps of earth and a blur of Cronus. The next wave hits you before you can suck in a breath through chattering teeth and you tumble over a colony of barnacles and into the sea wall, scraping your bare arms up worse than before but giving you a ledge to heave yourself over and cough out a lungful of brine.  
  
The freezing water numbs your wounds for now, helped along by the adrenaline rush, and you're dazedly marveling at how warm the sand feels when two hands seize you by the waist and pull you up off the ground, mostly to your feet before dragging you away from the water. You grab onto cloth and hair, still sputtering for air.   
  
"What the living shit did I say?! Kankri for angels' sake did you think I was tryin’ to trick you?!" The hive isn't warmer, but there's no wind to chill your already cold skin. He sits you down at the kitchen table and holds your face, looking into one eye, then the other as you shake uncontrollably, thoughts sluggish.  
  
"... Look, okay Kankri I need you to get in the shower, and then let me bandage you so you can sit in front of the oven. You listenin?" You are, of course, but you shrink away from him because being nude around him sounds like an awful idea even without factoring his tendency for wandering hands.   
  
You get up and stumble towards the stairs, a bit of feeling gone from your limbs. "I will t-t-take care of muh-myself thank-kuh you, bandages are n-n-nothing c-complicat-ted." He squints at you, lips pulled back while he tenses the muscle in his neck.   
  
"See, normally I would totally go for that. Let you do it yourself, not actually touch some gross, bloody troll even if he is my friend. But the fact a the matter here is you ain't gonna make it up those stairs, and I'd rather peel the skin off my bulge than deal with that stack a paperwork what comes with havin' someone die in my hive."  
  
That hits harder than you’d like and rips a growl from your chest. "How ch-charming, and certainly-ly persuasive, I really fuh-feel like letting you t-t-take care of me now." You hold onto the railing and slowly ascend the stairs because you _can_  regardless of what he thinks.   
  
"... Fuck it." He follows you up and throws you over his shoulder like nothing more than dead weight, and carries you off to the ablution chamber despite your displeased flailing. "Now, if you don't strip on your own I'll just do that for you too, and I'm startin' to get the feelin' you don't want my hands on you more than the bare minimum necessary to keep you alive, so snap the fuck to it." He hooks his thumbs into the sash across his waist and leans against the only exit.  
  
While this is all very logical it still plants the seed of shame in your gut to have to remove your clothes in front of another troll, especially one who not only forced sex on you, but one who seems to be reluctantly shoving this cull arrangement in your face. You pull your clothes off before he can grow too impatient, and turn the shower on its hottest setting. The spray hurts, like jumping into a firestorm, but you grit your teeth against the mental alarm until it fades. Unfortunately that means the feeling is returning to your wounds, which throb angrily. You really hope they don't infect, Cronus is a violetblood, that should afford him the best first aid supplies. That is of course only if he spent the money on first aid, and not something more worth his time like high quality hair gel and dirty magazine subscriptions.  
  
Muscles aching, you reach up and brush the dirt from your torn up skin before getting the soap and washing the surrounding areas. "Well get the medical kit out, I w-would hate to think you as so ill prepared you don't even know where such supplies are, or at worst not even own them. You do have a kit, correct?" The tremble has mostly gone from your voice by now, the warm water doing wonders to bring your temperature back up and leaving you sleepy.   
  
"Uhh, yeaaah I got one of those around here. Somewhere." He digs through the cabinet under the sink, then the towel closet, before leaving to retrieve it from the hall closet with a triumphant grin. "There, yeah, you just get dried off and I'll fix you right up."   
  
You glance at him and stay under the spray until all the heat is gone and you can't stand the ice that follows. The towels at least, are extremely plush, almost like there's a thin layer of foam to the mix. You pat your wounds with tender dabs and wrap it around your waist before allowing him to apply the wound cleanser. Sharp blue stings at your nose before the chemical registers as such, along with the pain like an ache seeping through the tissue and triggering a snarl. Cronus shoots you a look and presses the cleanser-soaked cloth to one of the deeper cuts, one of many that make up the cheese grater markings from your wrist to your shoulder and along the left side of your jaw. Now that you can feel everything, it seems a few teeth were loosened and your lip was split and swollen.   
  
It occurs to you that this is how the agent will meet you, with you looking exactly like a poor little cull who can't even keep away from the obvious path of danger. It sits hard in your stomach like a rock, burning cold to match the icy water outside in the gentle, drifting flurries of snow. Well, it's too late to call it off. You're already leaving, you hope. They may have responded while you were out just to tell you that your claim was garbage and you should apologize to your culler. The mere thought makes your lip curl, which becomes a wince when Cronus starts on your face. You push his hand down with an unsteady one of your own.   
  
"Okay I can take it from here, I assure you that you can, in fact, leave now." Your throat feels thick and you really hope its not the cold sinking in deep enough to make you ill. He snorts and grabs hold of your jaw in a way that both avoids your wound and presses his palm into your throat so you don't move away again.   
  
"Kanks, no, if I'm doing it then it'll get done with steady hands. You do it and you'll just fuckin' flinch the whole time." He finishes you up with a few bandages and some cream on what cant be covered. "See? You're ready to go now."   
  
You step around him and hurry out of the block, forgetting your clothes in favor of a door you can lock shut. His whining about lack of gratitude follows at your heels but once the door clicks you can relax without thought of him pulling you back. When you look across the block to your laptop you notice that you do, in fact, have a new email that on closer inspection _is_  from the agency.  
  
  
Dear Tr. Vantas,   
  
We have received the necessary testimony to nullify your contract of culling arrangements, however since your current culler will not be contacted for further information they cannot give sufficient information to nullify your culling status. You will be given room and board at the nearest Cullery until an assessment can be made, and from there you will either be given a new hive or reassigned.   
  
We will send someone to pick you up within the week, and we hope to find you well.   
  
Our sincerest condolences,   
  
The Fair Cull Association.  
  
  
You go from relieved to sweating with your breath coming in shallow throughout the course of the message. The system, you are being thrown into the culling system. The very idea is enough to make your ears ring, because you know that just means you'll be at the mercy of people who will respond to your input either with head pats and cooing, or much heavier hands than when Cronus slapped you in the living room. When you reached out for an escape you were too distressed to think about the _after_ , and now you were well and truly fucked.   
  
-  
  
During the day your block warms up a little, sunlight bathing the wood with heat and shining harmlessly under the curtain. It isn't enough to combat the chill wind or the chill from the night, but it was enough for you to pace the room in a blanket. The old wood creaks under foot in what used to be a worrying manner before you'd grown accustomed to it, now it was just grating on the nerves. Sitting still was worse, it was like a band of skitter bugs had wriggled under your skin and made to tunnel you through, making your leg bounce in the slime until you were anxious enough to emerge and take up your current activity; pacing. It never made the growing urge to scream go away, but it helped, and you could use any comfort available at the moment.   
  
A sound from below stops you cold while your ears strain to pick up anything else. You hear voices, one of which is the annoyingly familiar croon that Cronus takes on while speaking to someone he's just met or otherwise intends to woo. Then you hear a yelp and some scuffling that has you yanking on clothes and creeping down the stairs as quiet as possible in such an old hive to see what was going on. You pick up a weighty vase and set the fake orchids down before pressing your back to the wall and listening.  
  
"-now you get the fuck outa my hive and don't ever come back with that kinda- hold still! With that kinda attitude. You got me? Do you fuckin got me chief, nod your head. Yeah, yu-hunh, now _fuck_ off." His voice tightens and a metalic slam soon follows, along with a ringing silence. "... Ohhh, that shit-tongue little bitch, who'd he even..."  
  
The breath sticks halfway in your throat when he rounds the corner and freezes to stare at you, a few dark spots on his face that look like bruises in the glare of sunset off the walls. Then his expression snaps from surprise to rage and you find your shirt balled up in his hands and the wall grinding into your spine. You drop the vase, it would have been too heavy to use as a viable weapon anyway, but it had seemed reassuring at the time.   
  
"Kankri fucking Vantas just what exactly you been saying to people? Some kid just come up onto my shore in a sun coat to _punch me in the face_  sayin its for being a shitty culler." Meenah is apparently very honorable when she gives her word, you just wish it had been after you'd already left. When you open your mouth he pulls your shirt and knocks you into the wall again, making you yelp.  
  
You bring a knee up hard into his sheath in retaliation and he echoes your yelp, pulling the both of you to the floor in shock. "Meenah was checking up on me and when I told her I was going to leave your hive she decided to enact vengeance for me being mistreated, I never told _her_  what you did!"  
  
He snarls and then squints at you, down in the dark you can see more clearly the marks on his face and his torn up knuckles. "Wait, leave? What, did you call a fuckin buggy or something? I'm your culler, you can't just leave-"   
  
"Legal documentation is an amazing thing, a bit complicated for someone of your reading level but since you don't actually need to see the paperwork I'll paraphrase for you. I am leaving, because I gathered sufficient proof of you being a complete jerk and unfit to take care of another troll. Any day now, the response email said they'd pick me up this week." There is a large amount of adrenalin pumping through you due to the way he's looking at you, hands twitching and nostrils flared.   
  
"... So where you gonna go then, you don't have a hive anymore." The lowered volume seems more dangerous than the yelling.  
  
"I- well that is none of your concern anymore so you'll just have to deal with not being able to know everyth-"  
  
"Holy shit. Oh my god you are such a fucking idiot, ahah, oh thats rich." He snickers and sits up while you smooth your hair into place, glaring at him with pursed lips. "I know where you're going Kankri, and let me tell you once you've been to a few hives I won't hold too much of a grudge when you call me to come get you out."   
  
You are aware of how pupal it is but that doesn't stop you from covering your ears and growling until he goes away, a light shove to your horn as his parting gift.  
  
It isn't until the next day that the troll from the agency comes to pick you up, leaving you plenty of time to lay on your floor unable to do much more than chirp occasionally in panic. You've played it over and over in your mind how to prove you're competence, you even have a full verbal essay ready. All that's left for it is to wait, and hope they listen and don't just tilt their head and say how cute you are. You don't throw up, but the feeling threatens during the ride in the shuttle as you stare out the window and watch the island shrink, soon engulfed by dark grey waves and clouds.  
  
You'll be fine. You're smart, even if they don't listen fairly you can find a way free of this. Perhaps you might be able to bring it to an end on your way out.

 


End file.
